Epsilon
by zynaofthenight
Summary: AU. Captured by a gang while on vacation, Rachel Elizabeth Dare only knows two facts: there's a ruthless murderer after her, and she's suffering a severe case of Stockholm's. Rathan. Beta by The Midnight Doe. Nominated for the Veritas!
1. Lost And Found

_AU. Captured by a gang while on vacation, Rachel Elizabeth Dare only knows two facts: there's a ruthless murderer after her, and she's suffering a severe case of Stockholm's. Rathan._

**[A/N]: **Rathan—Rachel Elizabeth Dare/Ethan Nakamura. Haha, I love this pairing. Probably because I made it up. Kind of. I know there's at least one other person on Fanfiction who has thought of this pairing by themselves, but I did think of this pairing on my own. And that is why I must write pointless fanfics about Rachel/Ethan, to spread the word. :D

This fic's AU—alternate universe. Everyone's human. Story rated T for obvious reasons. Not very innocent writing o.O Advance warning, of course. I think I'm getting too influenced by…ah…_certain _classmates who are boys, and have a _strange_ sense of humor…What you all will think of me, after this story…I don't know. But there will be...uh…_romantic_ moments in more detail than I usually write in…which makes me feel very awkward since I did _not_ know I could write that kind of stuff. *sigh* And Ethan says interesting things. *awkward turtle*

I don't own PJO.

(Guess what! This story actually has a plot, for once! *is proud of self*)

Rathan is pronounced "Ray-than."

Thanks to **The Midnight Doe **for being the beta XD

* * *

**-Epsilon-**

_By: zynaofthenight_

Prologue: Lost and Found

* * *

"_There's a girl wandering in the streets, lost, Ethan. She's got red hair and green eyes. We've been watching her for some time, ever since she stepped inside the alleyways. Seems rich."_

"_You think we can get the money?" Ethan Nakamura turned to Percy Jackson with an inquiring look. "You know we can't afford to make any mistakes. One blunder and we're in deep trouble."_

_The other boy nodded swiftly and glanced at the girl next to him. "Annabeth thinks so."_

"_Well, if Annabeth thinks so…" _

* * *

Lost. She was lost.

Rachel Elizabeth Dare hissed under her breath in frustration as she turned into yet another dead end. Already, the sky above was dotted with stars; it was dark, she was lost, and she also happened to be wandering in a maze of streets in a strange city.

Where were her parents? Rachel had only been curious (and bored with her parents' pointless chatter about the scenery), so she slipped into an alleyway when no one was looking in her direction. She had figured she would just explore the city a bit—she was on vacation after all, and Manhattan seemed like such a foreign place to her; having lived all her life in the Hoover Dam area, the bustling noises of the city intrigued Rachel.

She considered crying out for help, but quickly decided against that. Cities were known for their gangs, murderers, and…worse. Who knew what was out there, eyeing some poor, innocent girl like her. Any call Rachel gave would immediately attract the attention of many unwanted people.

_Crack._

Rachel froze. In the silence that followed, her heart pounded so furiously in her chest that she was almost surprised no one appeared due to the noise. _Someone's here. Someone's come._

Silence, except for her heartbeat. Slowly, she began to breathe more freely, her maddened pulse calming down. Maybe it was just a dog wandering about the street. Perhaps there was really no one around. Perhaps—

"Hello, there."

Rachel whirled around, her mouth already forming a scream. But before she could utter any sound, a large hand was clamped over her mouth. Her screams now muffled, Rachel began to struggle, trying to kick and punch whatever/whoever was holding her back. Something pinned her arms behind her back, but still, Rachel fought against her bonds.

The cool steel of a knife pressed against her throat, and she stopped struggling, panic beginning to overwhelm her. Closing her eyes, she held still, though her heart was still pounding with terror.

"Good," a smooth, obviously masculine voice whispered in her right ear, sending involuntary shivers of fear down her neck. "Stay still and I won't have to kill you." Her captor trailed the flat of blade along her throat to make his point. The pressure of the knife disappeared, and she could hear her captor straightening up and saying something unintelligible.

Suddenly, Rachel was released from her bonds, and she fell gasping to the ground. An impatient hiss came from above her, and she quickly got to her feet, looking about her.

She was surrounded. Tense, armed people with flashlights formed a circle around her. As she narrowed her eyes against the bright lights, she saw that they were all teenagers, around her age, or maybe a bit older. A burly girl, who must have been the one pinning her down, stepped into her place in the circle, her

"Silly girl, wandering about the streets alone at night. You should know the dangers that come with that."

Rachel stared as she realized that there was a boy standing in front of her, a knife in his hand. She immediately recognized his voice as her captor's.

"What do you want?" she asked, trying to hide the trembling in her voice. She couldn't allow herself to show fear, especially in front of these people. She was surrounded and cornered by a gang in the dead of the night.

On closer inspection, her captor looked about her age—a typical sixteen or seventeen year old teenager. He had glossy black hair that fell to his shoulders, and there was a black eye patch over his left eye, illuminated in a ghostly by the flashlights. His visible eye was dark brown—and as Rachel stared at him, she couldn't help thinking that he was rather…attractive.

Rachel wanted to laugh hysterically. Here she was, captured and probably about to be killed or worse, and she was thinking her captor was attractive.

The boy raked his gaze over her, smiling in a not-so-nice way. Rachel flinched as the boy's eyebrows rose higher and higher as he looked her over. Who knew what unchaste thoughts were currently running in his mind as his eyes passed over her body…

Her captor smirked and stepped forward. Rachel was too shocked to move as he came closer and closer, until their faces were only a few inches away from each other. Frozen, Rachel watched in fear as the boy leaned closer, until his forehead was almost touching hers.

"Afraid now?" His breath flooded over her face and she tried to take a step backwards, only to find that the boy was pressing his knife against her back. _He's going to kill me. Or rape me. Or worse, he's going to rape me, then kill me. _

The boy stepped away, taking the knife away from her back. "Silly, silly girl. Wandering around at night." He grinned sanctimoniously, giving her an innocent look.

"If you knew who my parents were, you wouldn't dare touch me." The words tumbled out of her without thinking.

The smug look on his face disappeared instantly. "Tell me your name," he said roughly, grasping Rachel's wrist in a painful grip and jerking her towards him. "What's your name?"

"I-I…Rachel," she faltered under his death glare. "Rachel Elizabeth Dare." She whispered the last word and closed her eyes, certain of what was to come.

And she was correct. When the boy spoke again, his tone held something akin to glee. "Miss Dare, daughter of the president of Dare Enterprises?"

When Rachel didn't respond, the boy tightened his grip on her wrist and pushed her against a wall along the street, growling. "_Answer me."_

She nodded mutely, too terrified to speak.

Her captor released his grip on her and turned to the surrounding gang. "Did you hear that, Annabeth? Dare Enterprises."

A blonde girl stepped out of the circle and glanced at Rachel. It was hard to see in the darkness, even with the flashlights, but Rachel was pretty sure she saw the girl had an apologetic look in her eyes. "Is this what we're looking for, Ethan?"

Her captor—Ethan—turned to Rachel. "Would your parents be willing to pay a hundred thousand dollars for you, girl?"

She nodded again, and then somehow found the courage to speak. "Wouldn't any parent be willing to pay that much for their children?"

There was a flicker of emotion in Ethan's dark eye as he looked at her. "Mine wouldn't," he muttered softly, so softly that she almost thought he hadn't spoken. Only the slight movement of his lips gave him away.

Suddenly, Rachel felt a stab of pity. Sure, her parents may not seem to care much for her, but they would protect her and pay for her. If Ethan didn't even have the faith that his parents would—_What was she doing? _Rachel shook her head slightly to clear her thoughts. What was wrong with her? She was being threatened with death, and all she could do was sympathize with her captor.

"Annabeth," Was it her imagination, or did Ethan's voice crack slightly as he looked towards the blonde? "You know what to do."

The girl nodded and disappeared off into an alleyway. Ethan turned to Rachel with an unreadable expression on his face. "You're hostage here, until your parents pay for you, understand? Thalia, take care of her back at the hideout."

With a lightning fast movement, Ethan grabbed Rachel and dragged her with him as he walked away, the rest of the gang following him.

"Where are you taking me?" She twisted from his grip and tried to kick the boy, but all she got was a jolt of pain as he grabbed her hair and turned her head around so she was facing him.

Ethan smirked, his eyes mocking. When he spoke again, his voice was low and amused.

"Hell."

* * *

_The shadowy figure chuckled quietly to himself as he watched the gang make their way through the alleyways. So Ethan had finally mustered up enough nerve to capture a hostage. However, a dead hostage wasn't a good source of money, was it?_

_The watcher laughed quietly. "Run all you want, kiddos. It's no use."_

* * *

**[A/N]: **I warned you at the beginning of the chapter that this story wasn't very innocent. It's different…and more like my _unsighted _story.

This was a sort of intro chapter. I hope I can write longer chapters after this, but this chapter was just a kind of filler for the setting and stuff. Sorry for the all-italics for the first and last sections, it was done on purpose in my attempt to create a 'mysterious, interesting' mood. Kind of.

Come one everyone, you've just got to love Rachel and Ethan :D

Review please? I like reviews. Reviews are nice. They make me happy. And a happy author means more updates.

In regarding to why Percy and Annabeth are on the same side as Ethan: this is AU. I can make my characters go on whatever side they want to. There's a reason, which will be revealed sometime in the next few chapters.

Hey, this story could be worse. It actually started out with a Princess Rachel and a random guy named Ethan. Long story…


	2. Welcome to Reality

**[A/N]:** _Epsilon _got nominated for the Verita Awards XD Thanks to whoever nominated me :D

Beta by **The Midnight Doe**.

* * *

**-Epsilon-**

_By: zynaofthenight_

Chapter I: Welcome to Reality

* * *

Annabeth's fingers shook as she flipped the pages of the phone book. It was the next day, and she was searching for the phone number of Dare Enterprises. Beside her, Ethan tapped his right foot impatiently, waiting for the blonde girl to find the right page.

The owner of the antique store they were in, a grouchy old man who did not look very happy at this hour of the morning, scowled at Annabeth over the rims of his wiry glasses. "Hurry up, you two. It's too early in the morning for me to properly have customers"—this was said with an edge, as the old man seemed to know perfectly well that Annabeth and Ethan were not here to buy anything—"in my store."

Annabeth offered him a weak smile of apology as she continued searching for the phone number. Ethan had begun to tap his fingers rapidly upon the desk they were standing next to.

"Have you got it yet?" he asked impatiently. "Come on, it's not that hard."

Annabeth flipped another page, narrowing her eyes in concentration. "It's got to be somewhere…**,**" she muttered."And—oh! I've got it!"

Ethan leaned eagerly over her shoulder and read the phone number listed in the book. Straightening up, he nodded politely to the storekeeper and reached for the phone on the desk. He shot a glance at Annabeth, and she nodded, moving towards the storekeeper with a smile.

"Thanks for letting us use your phone, sir," he could hear her say. "I'm really interested in your antiques. I love designing and all that. Could you tell me about this vase?"

Ethan smirked. Trust Annabeth to find something nerdy to say. As the old man began to talk about Greek artifacts and other random subjects, Ethan dialed the number of Dare Enterprises on the phone, and waited.

And waited.

Finally, someone picked up the phone and a smooth female voice answered: "Dare Enterprises. How may I help you?"

"Is the president of the company here?"

"The president?" There was a pause at the end of the phone line, and Ethan fidgeted. The voice came back, suddenly wary. "The president and his family are currently on vacation. Any message you have for the president will be passed along to me."

Ethan smiled coldly, even though the woman couldn't see him. "Tell him it concerns his daughter."

"I'm sorry, sir. The president is on vacation—"

"Find him, then. Call his cell phone number or something."

He could hear the secretary gulp, then the dial of another phone. After a minute of silence, she came back on. "Hang up for now, and the president will be calling back."

Ethan hung up and waited. In the background, he could still hear Annabeth and the storekeeper chatter about architecture. He tapped his foot, waiting, for another minute, before the phone rang again.

"Good morning, sir." Ethan kept his voice cool and calculated, even though inside, he was smiling at his victory.

"This is William Dare," a businesslike voice informed on the end of the line. "Did you say something about my daughter?"

The man's voice was expressionless except the slight falter when he said _daughter_. Ethan felt his spirits go up slightly. This man was prepared to pay for Rachel Dare's release.

Lowering his voice in case the storekeeper overheard him, Ethan chuckled and he heard William Dare make an impatient noise. "Of course, your daughter," Ethan drawled, knowing that he had gotten the man's attention. "Let me see. Red hair, green eyes… named Rachel Elizabeth Dare?"

"Yes… have you seen her?"

The tone was clipped and brisk as ever, but Ethan knew William Dare was now breathlessly waiting for an answer, yearning for news about his daughter.

"We've got her, but we're not telling you where. If you want her alive and well—if you want to be able to see her again—pay us, and we'll give you your daughter back."

He heard the sharp intake of breath. "How much?"

Ethan waited a moment before naming his amount. This was dangerous territory. "A hundred thousand. US dollars. I'll give you a chance to think about it. If you choose to pay, we'll meet you at a place and give you your daughter a week from now." He rattled off a street name, and then paused, before making his last point. "If you bring any guards—any people whatsoever, other than yourself, or contact the authorities, we'll kill your daughter before you kill us. Understand?"

Ethan hung up. Looking towards Annabeth, he jerked his head towards the exit of the store. The girl said a goodbye to the storekeeper and walked briskly to catch up to Ethan.

"Did it work?" she inquired. Ethan nodded, and the two of them disappeared into the crowd of Manhattan, New York. Little did they know, a watching figure stood up from where he had been sitting outside the antique shop. He dialed a number on his cell phone and smiled coolly as he heard the female voice on the other side.

"Dare Enterprises. How may I help you?"

"Tell the president of the company that I can help him save his daughter."

* * *

Rachel sat on the bed in her room, fuming. She was stuck in a locked room, in some place who knows where—and she was being held hostage. Not to mention by a creepy person named Ethan who seemed a bit insane.

_Hostage?_ Ethan was stupid. No one tried dealing with her father, because he always won in the end. And now a teenage boy, barely older than her, was trying to outwit William Dare, the owner of most of the important companies in the United States.

The doorknob of her room turned, and Rachel glanced up in surprise. Standing at her doorway was Thalia, the girl who brought her into this room last night. As the other girl came in soundlessly, Rachel kept silent, glaring into the distance.

"Do you need anything?" Thalia's voice was incredibly nice compared to the way she dressed—her current, soothing tone contrasted to the punk clothes she wore. Rachel didn't move, just kept silent.

"I know what you're thinking," Thalia continued, as if Rachel had actually responded. "You hate us. You're confused."

Rachel laughed without any mirth. "No, of course not. I'm not angry at all because I've just been captured by a gang in a strange city and held hostage." The sarcasm dripped from her words like poison, and Thalia strode across the room to stand in front of Rachel, who stared back defiantly.

"I guess I should explain."

Rachel was shocked. She had expected Thalia to sneer or pull off some sort of evil act—not give her the reason why Rachel was currently stuck like a prisoner in a locked room.

"We're not that bad, Rachel," Thalia began. Rachel snorted and crossed her arms.

"Really…"

"No, I mean it. The only reason we're in a gang is because we've got to survive. You've got to understand. Most of us don't have parents, and we don't have families. Think. If you grew up poor and without anybody to care for you, wouldn't you find others like you to band together and fight for survival?"

"Doesn't explain why I'm here. I mean, why me? Why capture me for a hostage?"

Thalia shrugged sadly. "Money. We need the money."

Rachel put her head in her hands, confused. "I don't get it. You guys capture me. Why are you so nice to me though? Well, except for the whole hostage thing and the 'Ethan threatening to kill me' part."

Thalia sighed, and sat down next to Rachel, who glared, but didn't object. "Ethan can be somewhat intimidating. He's a good leader, really. I'm sorry you got such a fight, but that's the way gangs work. We surround, we capture, and we disappear. Everything has to work fast. We don't mean to harm you. It's just that…" she trailed off, looking distant.

Despite herself, Rachel was intrigued. "What do you mean?"

"Ethan wasn't always the leader of our gang. Before, there was… there was Luke." From Thalia's expression, Rachel wondered if Luke had been very special to the girl.

"And?" she prompted. Thalia shook her head and continued. "Luke was a great leader. Ethan was his second-in-command. Then one day, he… he was with Percy, when he almost killed Percy and ran off. I wasn't there myself during that time."

Rachel didn't know who Percy was yet, but she felt a shiver of fear go through her body. "So what happened?"

"We never caught him." Thalia's voice dropped to a low whisper, and she blinked furiously. "A month ago, Luke appeared suddenly to Ethan. He told Ethan that if he didn't pay a hundred thousand dollars, he would come and kill us all."

"So that's why you want me."

"But Rachel, the only problem is, we must keep you hidden until your parents pay the money. If Luke finds out that we have a money source, then he will start to hunt you down and try to kill you."

"Me? Why me? I thought he wanted money."

"Luke's not looking for money," Thalia said miserably. "He just wants an excuse to kill us." She stood up again, and turned to Rachel with a forced smile on her face. "I know you probably still hate us all, but I got you some new clothes and food… we're not going to starve you to death."

Rachel stood up too. "Okay, I'm still bitter," she admitted, "but I guess… I'll just go and punch Ethan in the face or something." She laughed nervously and looked at Thalia. "I want to hate you, but I can't. I don't know why."

"So you don't hate me?" Thalia smiled, her blue eyes lighting up.

Rachel sighed and shrugged. "I guess so. I still hate Ethan though." She made a face. "Ugh. I feel like I shouldn't call him 'Ethan.' It's too personal… if seems like only his friends can call him that. And I'm pretty sure I'm not going to be his friend anytime soon."

"Nakamura."

"What?"

"His last name is Nakamura. If that makes you feel better, you can just call him that."

Rachel nodded, and looked around the room. "So…" she said, "did you say you have food?"

* * *

"Dare."

Rachel looked up from the book Thalia had brought her to see Ethan standing in the doorway, a scowl on his face. He was at least quite a few inches taller than she was, she noticed, feeling a somewhat stinging blow with that realization. Punching him might not be that easy.

"Nakamura," she responded smoothly, putting the book down. "What do you want?"

In daylight, he looked more human than he had last night. With a quick scan, Rachel took in the black t-shirt and ripped jeans he wore. Something in his demeanor told Rachel that his jeans weren't ripped for fashion, but instead due to surviving in the streets.

Ethan smirked as he noticed Rachel's eyes. "Checking to see if the enemy is about to kill you?"

It was Rachel's turn to scowl as she turned away. "What do you want?"

"To talk."

Rachel kept silent as she studied the quilt on her bed. As she absentmindedly looked over the pattern of the cloth, her mind was working furiously. She was here. A hostage. And the only way to get back was to have her parents pay a hundred thousand dollars for her release. She could try to escape, but considering the people in the gang, she doubted she would last five steps outside the room—if she could even break the lock on the door.

"To talk, eh?" Rachel smiled without amusement. Blood was pounding in her head, and she suddenly felt the urge to go up and punch the boy in the face, even if she probably would miss. She turned around to face Ethan, eyes blazing, fists clenched to her sides. Rachel Elizabeth Dare was angry, and she deserved an explanation.

"You've got some explaining to do, Nakamura."

* * *

William Dare stared at the young man standing in front of them. The meeting place was in a solitary restaurant hidden in the depths of the city, and the president of Dare Enterprises was beginning to regret leaving his personal bodyguard behind.

"Mr. Dare." The young man smiled as he acknowledged the older man. He had ash-blonde hair and bright blue eyes, but what caught the businessman's interest was the long scar that ran down his face.

"You said you could help, Mr. …?"

"I prefer my name to remain a secret, sir. However, yes, I can help you. What's more, I can not only save your daughter, but also deal with her captors."

William Dare leaned forward, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes. "If you do, I will reward you greatly."

The young man smirked and looked at the executive. "What are you willing to pay?"

William Dare hesitated, but only for a second. He was going to save Rachel, no matter what. "Anything."


	3. That Dark Place Under

**[A/N]: **Wow. Okay, so I just checked fanfiction after…uh…about half a year? Yeah. And I see that this story has been nominated for the Veritas (an award site for PJO fanfics). Whoo! :D Thanks to whoever nominated me, I appreciate it. So therefore, because I'm happy, I get to update this chapter…after forever. If you can't remember what happened before, that's okay, because I can't remember either. .

Synopsis of past two chapters: Rachel Dare is lost in the city while on vacation. She's captured by a gang led by Ethan Nakamura. The next day, Ethan and Annabeth call Warren Dare, Rachel's father, for a ransom. Back at the gang's hideout, Thalia explains to Rachel that Rachel is being held ransom for money, as the former lead of the gang, Luke, is striving to kill them all. Ethan appears, and Rachel demands an answer from him for why she has to go through all this trouble. The chapter ends with Warren Dare agreeing that he will give anything to get Rachel back to a 'mysterious stranger.' (coughcoughhinthintluke)

Thanks to **The Midnight Doe** for beta-ing. You rock! :D

* * *

**-Epsilon-**

_By: zynaofthenight_

Chapter II: That Dark Place Under

* * *

For a girl as fierce as she was, Rachel Elizabeth Dare felt rather helpless under the amused grin Ethan Nakamura was giving her. This was most definitely _not _the reaction she has been anticipating; no, she had been hoping that the boy would at least have the decency to look ashamed at her angry statement, 'You have some explaining to do, Nakamura.'

Overall, Rachel could not imagine being more surprised until Ethan straightened abruptly from his slouch in her doorway and jerked his head out of the room. "Walk with me."

Maybe it was the shock—but she had no idea why she suddenly found herself rising to obey Ethan's request. However, Rachel kept enough sanity to ask (with as much venom as she could muster at the moment) where they were going. Ethan didn't deign to reply, though, and she was left with no choice but to follow him out the room into an intricate-looking passage, full of twisting paths, doors, and maze-like hallways branching out all over the place.

The boy led her past corridor after corridor of rooms, never hesitating at the turns. They climbed up so many flights of stairs that Rachel was lost in the vastness of the place. She caught glimpses of ornate statues and expensive-looking paintings hanging on the richly red walls of the hallways, which were lit by torch-like lamps. However, they were walking too fast for her to investigate further, although she did get the overall impression that though it must have once been a grand, royal place, the building she was in was quite old and worn down.

Finally, Ethan stopped in front of a door, which looked no different than the others. He turned to look at Rachel, who immediately stopped and glared at him. "What do you want me to do?" she asked.

He sighed, looking bemused. "You asked for answers."

"And what does this door have to do with anything?"

"It's not the door," he replied slowly, enunciating every word carefully as if she was too stupid to understand him, "it's the room _behind _the door."

Rachel gritted her teeth. "All right then. What does this lovely _room _have to do with anything?"

"I want to show you something." Ethan cocked his head towards the door, and gestured. "Look. I'm not going to tie you up and kill you. I'm not going to hurt you. Are you coming or not?"

There was nothing else for her to do, except to run off into the maze of halls. Rachel glared at Ethan one more time, and then nodded. "Fine. But you go first."

Ethan shrugged and opened the door. "Suit yourself." He stepped past the door, into the room. "Coming?"

She gave her surroundings one last despairing glance, then followed the boy.

The room was bare, its walls painted a washed-out, pale blue. There was nothing special in the place as far as Rachel could see, and she shot Ethan a confused look. He walked forward in response, reaching for a long, thick string dragging on the floor. Rachel looked up and instantly understood. She had not noticed it when she first came into the room, but a soft light lit up the space. The source of the light seemed to come from a silky, transparent fabric hanging in the air, and with a start, Rachel realized that they were curtains.

Of course. The light had to come from _somewhere_. And just because she couldn't see it didn't mean there wasn't a window. Still, she gasped when Ethan pulled on the string and the curtains went up, revealing an enormous pane of glass. The room was flooded with light, and Rachel walked towards Ethan, marveling at the window. Rising from floor to ceiling, it expanded across an entire wall and overlooked the lively city of Manhattan.

For the first time since she was captured, Rachel felt her spirits rise slightly. Manhattan was beautiful in the day, under the bright blue sky. Though the vastness of the city made her despair (for how was she ever to get out?), she couldn't help smiling at the scenery before her. Rachel began to commit the picture to mind; she was going to have to draw this when she got out of this infernal place…which reminded her of why she came here…

Rachel turned to Ethan, opening her mouth to ask him why he had brought her to the room, but upon seeing him, all intentions of questioning him flew out of her mind. In the streaming light, the boy looked almost angelic, his dark hair light brown at the edges where the sun illuminated it. His right eye—the one without the patch—stared out the window, and the expression on his face was so sad that Rachel stepped back, not wanting to disrupt his silence.

"Well? You wanted answers. Ask questions."

Blinking, Rachel realized that Ethan was now looking at her, his expression amused. After all, she had been staring at him. Rachel tore her gaze away from him, feeling her face heat up. "Where are we?"

"An abandoned hotel near Central Park. This place hasn't been used for years and years, and it costs too much money to tear down, so it's perfect for a hideout. If you were referring specifically to where we are at the moment, this is the Observation Room. It's a room I found when the gang first moved here. It has a clear view of Manhattan, which is useful for lookouts." He pointed towards a group of maze-like alleyways in the distance, and Rachel was struck by how so many places in this city seemed maze-like. "This is where we found you."

"Huh?" She frowned. "Where you found me?"

"Annabeth and Percy, actually," Ethan said. "You know. Yesterday. When you were wandering around and we found you." He ignored Rachel's glare, and continued. "Anyway, the point is, this room is useful for searching the city. Especially after we had to move here because it was the one place we could think of to hide from Luke…" His voice trailed off, and he gazed out the window. Looking down, Rachel noticed that his hands were clenched tightly into fists.

"Alright, then," Rachel said softly. "I guess I have to ask this. Why? For everything that's happened?"

"Thalia's talked to you?"

"Yes. Right before you came to my room."

"So you know why we took you."

"Yes…" Rachel paused, hesitating. "I know why."

"Then what else do you need to know? In a week your father will pay the money we need, and you'll be free, off to go back home, happy in your family's love." His voice was bitter.

"But why bother taking me?" Rachel asked. "If Luke is so intent on killing you, then why do you try so hard to get the money? I think that inside, you know that no matter what you do, Luke will continue trying to kill you all. Why not contact the authorities? Plus," she added, a note of accusation in her voice, "by taking me for hostage marks me as a target for Luke."

The silence that followed was so tense that Rachel almost regretted that she had said anything. Almost.

"My mother," Ethan said finally, "is quite a hypocrite. She raised me on the belief that I would be great and important. She promised me I would change the world." He jabbed his index finger towards his eye patch. "And you know what she did? She told me that to change the world, I needed to pay something. 'Nothing is free in this world,' she said. So she took my eye. My own mother!"

Rachel kept silent, not sure where this was going. Still, she couldn't help but shudder. Sure, her parents didn't show much affection towards her, but they would never be so…dementedly cruel. And the fact that her father was willing to pay for her…well, either it was because he had the money to lose, or it was because he truly cared for her.

"So I ran away," Ethan continued, his voice now dangerously quiet. "And I found this gang. They are my family. My parents don't give a damn for me." Rachel winced at the comment, but the expression on Ethan's face was so pained and angry that she didn't dare to comment. "If I contact the authorities, they'll just take us apart and force us into juvenile prison, or send us away," the boy concluded. "And yes, I know Luke will do anything to kill us. But I have no other choice." He turned away from her, and walked towards the door of the room. "I'm sorry about taking you, Dare. I didn't realize Luke would try to kill you too."

He sounded sincerely sorry, even though Rachel wasn't exactly keen on the idea of being targeted by a killer. In the end, all she could manage was a sort of strangled "It's okay…kind of. Not really."

Ethan laughed, though he was still turned away from her. "Dare, I'm not going to keep you confined to your room." He opened the door and pointed to the floor outside. Rachel walked over to him and followed his gaze, realizing that a pattern had been marked on the floor.

"There are signs around main passageways to help navigate through this place. But if you follow the pattern on the floor, it will always lead you to what used to be the ballroom. That's where everyone else stays—it's sort of our headquarters. If you want, you can…uh, stay with us there." He walked out of the room, and turned to Rachel. "I've got to go now. You can stay here for a while, if you want. I'll see you in the headquarters."

"Wait!" Rachel called out, as he turned to go. "Yesterday, when you took me—well, you said that this place is hell. So…why all the niceness?"

Ethan turned to her one last time, raising an eyebrow. "Would you rather have me _not _be decently nice?"

He walked off, leaving Rachel even more confused than she was before.

* * *

Warren Dare was having second thoughts. Sure, employing that mysterious young man to find the captors of his daughter was useful, but when the young man requested that he would have legal permission to kill the captors—well, it didn't make the businessman quite comfortable, exactly.

However, the stranger had already departed on his mission to find Rachel, and the only way Warren Dare could avoid any messy legal affairs was to get someone else to find Rachel first. So he found himself standing in front of a stately mansion in Manhattan, trying to swallow his pride down.

The door opened, and a young lad with light brown hair and bright blue eyes appeared. Warren Dare smiled stiffly and shook the boy's offered hand. "How do you do, Mr. Solace?"

The boy smiled, a much more carefree and natural smile than the businessman's forced expression. "Mr. Dare, I think I'm too young to be called 'Mr.' Please, come inside, and call me Will."

"No time, no time," Warren Dare muttered, frustrated. The boy's smile slipped and he looked questioningly at the man, his expression serious. The famed executive only dropped his professional in extreme, desperate cases.

"What is it, Mr. Dare?"

"It's Rachel. She's been taken and held hostage. Mr. Solace, you must help me find her."

Will Solace frowned. "Then by all means, Mr. Dare, come inside. I have to help you save your daughter."

* * *

**[A/N]: **And the plot thickens! Kind of.

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